


Compulsion

by glacis



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-27
Updated: 2010-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-06 17:58:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glacis/pseuds/glacis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during Hathor. Daniel deals with his body's betrayal, with help from someone who understands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compulsion

Compulsion, a Stargate SG-1 story by Glacis. Rated NC17 for sexuality and language. No copyright infringement intended. Based on and includes spoilers for the episode "Hathor". For K, my source, for hooking me on yet another sexy anthropologist.

 

There was a certain irony to life that would have amused Doctor Daniel Jackson if he'd been able to share it with anyone. But the academics who would appreciate it weren't in on his secret, and the military types who knew his secret wouldn't appreciate the irony.

Which, in itself, was ironic.

He stared down at the golden sarcophagus, index finger idly tracing the sharp-nosed profile of the Egyptian goddess of love. Someone, somewhere, had actually read his work on the possible cross pollination of ancient cultures, the same work that had gotten him tossed out of academia on his ear. The same work that had brought him to the attention of the special operations forces who not only believed him, but one-upped him. Ancient gods as aliens. It wasn't a unique perspective. The unusual part was that it was actually true.

An airman bustled in, a sense of controlled excitement making him bounce slightly. Daniel listened with one ear as General Hammond first begged off on meeting the unauthorized intruder, only tuning in when he mentioned the Stargate. Curiouser and curiouser. Then they trudged down to the brig, and things went from curious to utterly bizarre.

She was gorgeous. That was his first impression. Nuts, was his second one, obviously shared by both Jack O'Neill and the general. But there was something about her eyes. They were gray, and piercing. Direct to the point of arrogance, and they reminded him of a cornered cat. It bothered him to see her tied up like an animal. With Hammond's grudging permission, he was allowed to untie her.

"What’s she gonna do?" he asked them sarcastically over his shoulder as he worked at the bindings. They'd left slight red marks on the tender skin of her wrists. "Beat us up?" He massaged the skin lightly. "Sorry about that." He was embarrassed, and when she first turned around he didn't immediately meet her eyes.

He could feel her smiling at him.

She said something about rewarding him, and raised his hand to her lips. He didn't feel her actually touch him, but something flowed between them. Something hot, electric, that made the fine hair on his forearm stand straight up. Something that made his knees watery, sent a shiver down his spine, and made his thoughts turn muzzy. Something that sent the blood rushing to his ears.

When she asked about Ra, he started to answer automatically, compelled in a way he couldn't begin to understand and didn't want to examine too closely, to give her whatever she needed. Whatever she asked.

"Doctor Jackson!" The general's voice cut through the fog. "Need to know."

Oh, right. "Ra is …" what could he tell her? He had to tell her something. "A myth." He was sitting on the bunk, but he didn't remember sitting, just knew his knees were weak. He looked up, perplexed, at Jack. This didn't feel right. Jack and Hammond started to leave, and he knew he had to stay. Something was holding him there.

With her.

He was floating, barely aware as he prodded Hammond into taking her hand, getting close to her. She wanted it, he knew, although he didn't know how he knew. And what she wanted, he would do his damnedest to make sure she got.

So, she got Hammond.

The door closed behind them, and Jackson stared at it for a long moment. Then she was asking about Ra, and he was telling her. It hurt him to hurt her, and he didn't want to tell her that her husband/father was dead, nor that he'd been one of the ones responsible for Ra's death.

Her smile took his breath away. When she called him her beloved, his mind followed.

 

He was beautiful, in a young, confused, bright way They hadn't seen in millennia. Strong minded, too, not that it would serve him well. Their body reacted in a pleasing manner to his, and the core of Their being, that which was the essence of Hathor, recognized a man worthy of becoming Their Pharaoh.

So much better than Ra. This one, They could control. No struggle for power. Merely pleasure, and obedience. As it should be.

The others were loath to kneel before their Goddess, but Hathor bathed his skin with Her breath, and his mind was Hers to command. Their ruler followed his lead, with some prodding of Her new young Beloved. In very short time, the humans were gathered for Their audience. They were pleased.

The woman CaptainCarter was beautiful, and intelligent, and in another time, with a more secure hold on power, They would have enjoyed her. But They had no time for that yet. The urges to procreate, populate and rule were strong. Their Beloved eased Their path, and the one chosen as Their first Jaffa, as well as the marble-domed ruler, were quick to follow.

It was all so easy. They had missed this.

One hand reached out to caress the ring towering around Them, soaring above Their head. "We have missed you, old friend." Their time of retribution and rule was upon Them. They felt generous toward Their Beloved, and encouraged him to ask the questions that roiled, barely held in check under Their command. They smiled at him, and led him gently to the truth, and nodded approval when he realized that They were indeed the Mother of all Gods.

As he would be the father.

The quarters the servants had allotted Them were sparse, and dark, but there was a bed, and a semblance of privacy. They dismissed the humans, after convincing the one who would be Jaffa that the guards were unnecessary. They called back Their Beloved when he would have followed the other servants, and They spoke to him with honeyed words, and overcame his meager resistance with the breath of love, quelling the struggle in his mind with the overwhelming compulsion of his body.

Oh, They had missed this pleasure. So much.

His mouth was warm, gentle, soft. His arms were strong about Them, his body finely formed. His hands were warm on Them as he caressed Their flesh, and his back was sinuous under Their fingertips. He clutched Them to him with desperation born of Their need, moving strongly upon Them, moaning into the curve of Their breast, long legs and strong thighs shaking as he emptied his seed into Them. Their body began to break down the component parts of his juices immediately, and They could feel the cleaving of the building blocks between their two races joining. Their head grew heavy on Their neck, and a whisper of satisfaction echoed with the depth of the Goa'uld within Her body as their joining was complete.

Their beloved lay beside Them. His eyes were wet with tears. Below his satiation, They felt a dark undercurrent, a struggle born of fear and denial. But Their hold was strong, and as They ran one hand down his shaking flank, They smiled.

It had begun.

 

Jackson felt like he was walking underwater. His skin itched, but he couldn't figure out why. Every time he tried to pin down the reason for his unease, it slipped away. He couldn't bring himself to try very hard, because he couldn't remember why it was so important. He knew it was … but his conviction was without basis, and he kept losing it.

She looked at home, framed in the Stargate. His eyes were stuck to her, but his mind was trying like hell to ask a question. It didn't make sense. She was on their side. She wasn't going to hurt them. She hated Apophis just like he did. But that itch wouldn’t go away.

It finally bubbled to the surface, and fell out past his lips. "What does that mean, exactly?" Faced with the beauty of her eyes, staring into his, and her mouth, curved into a smile of pure joy, he couldn't figure out why he was distantly horrified by her answer, or why the distance should bother him so much. "You're like the queen bee." Hatching little Goa'uld larvae by the million. His mind flashed on a mission just a few months before. Leveling an M16 at a tank full of larvae and spreading them all over the dirt to die before they could grow up and kill any more humans.

She smiled at him. The memory winked out. All he could see was her eyes. All he could smell was her body.

He was drunk on her.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. He found himself in the briefing room, pleading her case, and the General believed him, so he couldn't be wrong. Could he? No, Jack agreed. He didn't hear anything else, once she smiled at him again. He trailed along behind the others as they toured the facility. His head was pounding. The questions were battering at his brain, but he had no words to give them form. So he walked, and he watched her, and he wondered why it should hurt so much, and why he didn't care.

Jack suggested they leave her to get some rest, and Hammond agreed. Daniel started to follow, and she called him back. It seemed like a good idea. She wanted him. So he stayed.

The questions were still rattling through his mind, and he started to force one out, when she called him Beloved again. Then she started talking about the code of life, and juices, and pleasure. An answer hit him, freezing him in front of her.

"DNA. You need our DNA to prevent rejection of the larvae by the host." She was too close. He had to think about this. There was something important, there, right under the surface. But she was talking to him again, and he was bending to her will.

The thought lanced through him like a knife to the gut. "You want me to help you create more Goa'ulds." Oh, no, god. The memory of the exploding tank painted itself in front of his eyes again, and his hand flew up, fingers clenching around her elbow, stopping the hand she had buried in his hair. He would not be part of this. He _killed_ the goddamned Goa'uld. He did _not_ _father_ them.

His eyes burned as her face blurred in front of him. He felt a powerful rush to his brain that he dimly categorized as pheromones, then her mouth was opening over his, and he couldn't pull away. His mind screamed at him to get the hell out of there while he had the chance. Then her hands pulled him to the bed and unzipped his pants, and the chance was gone.

Fucking her was the weirdest thing he'd ever done in his life. He felt like he was drugged, high out of his head, watching it all from somewhere up by the ceiling. She was warm and wet and beautiful, and he buried himself in her and moved with an animal's instinct to rut. Even as his hands parted her thighs and his cock spasmed inside her, he screamed, mute, wanting to hold it back, scoop his semen out of her womb and stuff it back down into his testicles. He came, torn in half with the need to have her warring with the need to deny her his sperm, the pure agony of knowing he was dooming his entire planet to slavery to the Goa'uld crushed by the compulsion to give her what she demanded.

Collapsing against her, he found himself crying, each tear burning like acid as it was pulled out of him. The crazy thought occurred to him to wish for a Goa'uld version of the morning after pill; she reached out and smoothed his hair back from his face, kissing him deeply. He couldn't move. Then she shifted, stretching over him and petting him with the same satisfaction a man might show toward a favorite dog when it performed a new trick. Jackson wanted to vomit.

She was gone before he found the strength to roll over. He was freezing. Scrabbling dully around the edge of the bed, he found his jacket and trousers and pulled them on. As he finished lacing his boots, it hit him all over again, and he sank back onto the side of the mattress, staring at nothing.

Trying to feel nothing. Failing.

He'd never felt so helpless in his life, not even when Sha're had been taken. At least, then, he'd fought as much as he could. Ineffectual fighting, but a good token effort. This time, his own body had betrayed him. He stared down at his lap. He'd never actually wanted to be a eunuch before. It was a new, unpleasant feeling. One of many the day had brought him.

The door slammed open, and Sam burst into the room. "Daniel?" He heard the concern and the incredulity in her voice. All three times she said his name. But he couldn't look at her. Couldn't find the words to tell her he'd betrayed her, betrayed himself, betrayed them all. So he sat there, and he stared at nothing, and he refused to let the tears fall.

From the corner of his eye, as the women ran back out into the hall, he saw movement. Looking up at last, he saw Teal'c, staring down at him, a fierce scowl on his face.

Oh, god. He knew. Teal'c knew.

Then the Jaffa took off after the women warriors, and Daniel Jackson pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and listened to the screams echoing inside his head.

 

They were furious. How could O'Neill turn on Them like that? They had offered him an incredible opportunity, to become Their first Prime, the first of the new breed of Jaffa that would be privileged to serve Them. Instead of accepting the honor for what it was, the human had turned on Them, using Their own sarcophagus to undo the effort They had made to give him a womb, rejecting Their children.

Rejected Them.

Basking in the birthing pool, They stared down at Their Beloved, sitting at Their feet. At least _he_ was a success. The turbulence in his mind was crushed, and he was speaking softly, with proper adoration, to Them.

They didn't like what They were hearing from his lips, however.

"She must pay for her actions with her life!" Carter was the Enemy. There was no time to seduce her over to Their way. Carter's death would be an object lesson in the fruits of rebellion. They would not stand for it. Mercy? They would show no mercy. Carter would die. She deserved no less.

A commotion at the entrance to the room startled Them, and They looked up to see the rogue Jaffa, Their own failed Jaffa, and the Carter woman shooting down Their guards. They bristled with anger, and raised Their hand to Carter, flinging her against the far wall with barely controlled rage. They stared at O'Neill, castigated him for his failure to live up to Their expectations, and raised Their hand to him.

The first bullet struck Their flesh, and They howled in frenzied denial as the birthing pool exploded into flames. Through the roar, They heard Their Beloved scream, "No!" and felt a fleeting satisfaction at his loyalty and obedience. Glancing at Their fallen guard, feeling the death agonies of Their progeny as the children melted in their own fluids, They rose from the flame and walked through the shadows, heading for Their old friend.

They would leave this place, leave the lost children, leave the Beloved.

For now.

There would be another time.

Staring over Their shoulder at O'Neill and Carter, They swore it.

 

Daniel Jackson stared at the receding event horizon on the Stargate and wondered what the hell had just happened. He felt light headed, dizzy, and more than a little hung-over. Sam was talking, but she wasn't making any sense.

Every muscle in his body ached, and beyond the cotton wool that seemed to have replaced his brain, there was a strong conviction that he had done something incredibly stupid. But he couldn't for the life of him figure out what. His skin was creeping, and he had an overwhelming urge to take a very long, very hot shower. Guilt was eating at him, but he didn't know why, and he felt dirty. He stared in total confusion from Sam to Jack, and wished to hell someone would tell him what was going on.

Doctor Fraiser came in the room, rounded them up, took them to the infirmary, and he let himself be led. For some reason, it felt uncomfortable, like he'd been allowing someone else to make decisions for him a lot lately. He wondered about the black out.

Staring in some disbelief at General Hammond, currently having the back of his neck bandaged and gulping down Tylenol dry, he asked, tentatively, "Sam? What's going on?"

She told him.

As she talked, rapidly, in a monotone, her very best 'field officer briefing' bearing in full swing, he wanted desperately to disbelieve her. He couldn't.

He remembered just enough to know she was telling the truth.

When she was finished, he sat on the cot, staring at the floor. Hammond said something about a stand-down, and reports, and needing to review the security tapes to get a better 'feel' for the last few days, since they'd all apparently been drunk on Hathor for the duration. Daniel winced.

Security tapes.

They would know. They would _all_ know.

Quietly, a desperate edge to his voice, he asked, "General? Who is going to be, er, reviewing these tapes?"

Hammond looked at him with sympathetic understanding. "Just myself, Doctor. This will be as circumspect an investigation as I can make it. All of us did things we're embarrassed about, Doctor Jackson."

Jackson ducked his head. The general had no idea just how right he was.

 

Coming into the base the next morning was the hardest thing Daniel Jackson had ever done. He felt like his stupidity, lack of backbone and betrayal of mankind were written all over his face. His greeting for Jack was subdued, and he couldn't meet Teal'c's eyes as they walked into the wreck of the training room to see how Doctor Fraiser was getting along in her investigation of the Goa'uld remains.

He hung back by the door, trying to ignore Teal'c's solid presence at his shoulder. A shudder crawled over his skin at the carbonized remains of Goa'uld larvae plastered against the sides of the whirlpool. They stank. Jack asked about their progress, and Janet offered some hope of recovering Goa'uld tissue or DNA.

"Most of that will probably be mine." He didn't know where the words came from, but he had to say them. Jack looked up at him curiously.

"Yours?" Tell me more, his tone invited. Daniel ignored the invitation.

"Yeah," he answered shortly. Happily, General Hammond breezed in at that moment and diverted Jack from asking any more questions.

Sam started to babble, nervously, and Hammond interrupted her to tell her he'd put the two women up for commendation. Daniel nodded to himself. It was the least they deserved. After Hammond left, Jack echoed the thought, and he added his own endorsement. After all, if the women hadn't mounted a counter-offensive, Earth would be a Goa'uld colony by now.

And it would have been his own fucking fault. Literally.

The thought broke his composure, and he slipped out the door as Jack went forward to talk with Sam. Daniel had to get out of there. Had to run.

Couldn't run from himself.

As it turned out, he couldn't outrun Teal'c, either. Daniel steadily ignored the hulking presence dogging him until he got to his car. He reached out to unlock the door, and a large, dark hand plucked the keys from his fingers.

"What the hell are you doing, Teal'c?" Daniel rounded on him. Teal'c stared back at him impassively.

"You should not be alone at this time, Daniel Jackson." So calm. So sure of himself.

Daniel didn't know whether to yell at him or punch him in the face. Choosing the less suicidal option, he hissed loudly, "I'm not fit company for anybody, right now, Teal'c. Just **leave** me **alone**."

"I cannot do that, Daniel." And he wouldn't, either, Jackson could tell. With a snarled "Suit yourself" he grabbed the keys back, hit the electric locks to unlock the passenger seat, and slid behind the wheel. He didn't say a single word all the way back to his apartment.

Peeling into the parking lot of his apartment building, he ripped the keys out of the ignition and tossed them into Teal'c's lap. "Okay, I made it home in one piece. Babysitting duty's over. You can go back to the base now."

Deep brown eyes stared back at him. "Baby sitting?" Teal'c looked around the interior of the car as if expecting to find a swaddled infant tucked in the corner. Daniel gritted his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut for a heartbeat, then threw himself out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He really was not in the mood for this.

It took him three tries before Daniel got the keys in the lock and the door open, and his newly-acquired shadow stayed right beside him. The shaking that had started in his hands was rapidly migrating to the rest of his body, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball in the middle of his bed and scream his head off. Of course, he needed privacy before he made a total ass of himself. It didn't look like he was going to be left alone anytime soon.

Slamming the front door shut behind them, he stared at his unwanted guest with something approaching hatred. He was close to his breaking point and he needed to vent some steam, but he couldn't direct it toward the person he felt most deserved it, himself. Not with an audience. He tried one last plea. "Teal'c, would you **please** get the fuck **out** of here?"

Teal'c stared at him for what felt like forever. Making no move to leave, he said gently, "I know what it is to do the bidding of the Goa'uld against my will." Daniel stared into that broad, forbidding face, and all he could see was the forgiveness in Teal'c's eyes.

It was too much.

A scream ripped from his throat, inarticulate rage, at Teal'c, at Hathor, at himself. He saw his fist driving toward Teal'c's womb with no idea when he swung, or why, and it was only the Jaffa's self-protective reflexes that kept him from taking a nasty body blow. Daniel found himself clamped tightly to Teal'c's chest, fists flailing at the larger man's ribs, pounding against that broad back. His face was buried in Teal'c's chest, and he screamed himself hoarse, calling Hathor everything from a whore to a bitch, and himself everything from a traitor to a stupid dumb-fuck dick for brains.

He had no idea he was crying. It wasn't important. What mattered was that he could finally say all the words his mind had screamed, that his tongue couldn't release while under Hathor's compulsion. It all came tumbling out, how he'd been so damned helpless, so stupid, so easy to manipulate. He should have fought, shouldn't have given in to her. Knew it was wrong, terribly, horribly wrong, and did it anyway. Couldn't stop himself. Should never have started.

By the time his voice gave out, he was clinging to Teal'c like an exhausted child, muttering "Stupid, stupid, stupid" over and over into the warm wet skin under his mouth like a mantra. Teal'c wasn't restraining him any longer, simply holding him, rocking him gently. The hard muscled abdomen pressed up against his hip shifted, and he froze.

Goa'uld.

God, how he hated the Goa'uld.

He pulled back, staring down at the place under the soft cotton where he knew the edges of the womb criss-crossed Teal'c's abdomen. He'd so nearly been instrumental in creating more of them. Come so close to propagating his worst nightmare. Without his volition, one hand reached across and rested against the opening of the womb. Teal'c tensed beneath him.

"Daniel?"

The soft question broke him out of the strange fugue state he'd been in, and he pulled his hand back as if he'd been burnt. "Sorry, Teal'c," he offered huskily. A large hand, dwarfing his own, pulled his palm back over the opening.

"I understand."

Jackson stared at his hand, pale against the olive green of Teal'c's uniform. "Do you?" he asked vaguely.

"Yes," Teal'c answered unequivocally. "In the service of Apophis, I did many things. Most of them, I do not care to remember. All of them, I carry with me."

"How?" It was a plaintive cry for help. "How do I accept that I very nearly seeded my planet with the one thing I hate most in the universe? My body betrayed me, Teal'c! **How** do I deal with that?"

"Accept your actions for what they were, Daniel Jackson, and leave them in the past where they belong."

It all sounded so reasonable, considering how completely impossible it was. "HOW do I get past the fact that I … I **mated** with Hathor like some kind of animal?"

Teal'c looked at him quizzically. "We are all animals, Daniel Jackson. Our nature may be used against us. The Goa'uld are experts at manipulating us."

Daniel fought the urge to scream again. Besides the fact that he'd been doing too much screaming lately, he didn't think his throat could take any more strain. He whispered fiercely, instead. "You're not helping, Teal'c."

Liquid dark eyes stared at him measuringly for a moment, then a strong hand cupped his jaw, tilted his head, and a firm mouth took his own. Thoroughly.

Jackson froze, feeling like a rabbit caught in headlights of an oncoming semi, unable to breathe, unable to think, unaware of anything but the agile thickness of the other man's tongue in his mouth. To his shock, he found himself responding. His hands clutched at Teal'c's shoulders, his thighs parted, and he realized he was rubbing the beginning of a healthy erection into Teal'c's crotch.

Teal'c pulled back and stared at him again. Daniel stared back, jaw hanging agape, hips still lazily thrusting. There was a twitch at the corner of that generous mouth that might be mistaken for the hint of a smile. "Do not feel guilty for the pleasure your body found with Hathor, Daniel Jackson. You were no more capable of rejecting her than you would be able to voluntarily cease breathing."

Daniel considered and threw out several possible rejoinders to Teal'c's logic. He was tired, and felt more alone than he had in months. He was missing Sha're's uncomplicated presence, resenting the hell out of Hathor's manipulation, and wanting nothing more than to turn his brain off. Teal'c was here, he was solid and warm and comforting in his strength. Right now, there was nothing Daniel needed more than that comfort.

All the pent up anger, guilt and passion of the past few days broke free, and concentrated itself into a determined assault on Teal'c. Pushing them both over and down onto the couch, Daniel pulled at Teal'c's jacket and tee shirt, ripping the material at the seams in his haste to uncover his friend. Teal'c stilled in response to Daniel's frenzy, staring at his face for long moments before whatever he saw there reassured him, and he cooperated in stripping them both.

The first time his hands brushed across the lips of Teal'c's womb, Daniel slowed, all his attention given to the vulnerable opening in the muscular abdomen. "You do know," he whispered, placing the center of his palm over the intersection of the crossed slits with no cloth separating their skin now. He felt a snub nosed pressure against his hand, one gentle nudge, a second, and pushed back just as gently. The Goa'uld larvae, sensing no threat, retreated into the womb. Daniel looked up into Teal'c's half-closed eyes. "It's a choice between life and death." Teal'c nodded, once, then waited for Daniel's response. "You chose life."

"It was chosen for me." Teal'c ran one hand down Daniel's spine, ending the caress at the small of his back, hand resting heavily there. "Twice."

"And you get past it." Daniel leaned forward, resting his head against Teal'c's chest, listening to the strong steady beat of his heart.

"I live with it. Yes. I get past it."

"How?" A nearly-silent whisper. Teal'c bent his head forward and rested his cheek against the top of Daniel's head.

"By living."

With that, he cupped Daniel's face with both hands, drew him up until their mouths met, and kissed him again. Daniel let go of the last of his confusion, knowing it would come back to bite him when he dropped his guard again, but willing, for the night, at least, to let Teal'c distract him from the endless round of self-recrimination chasing through his thoughts. Need was taking hold of him, and this time, brain and body were in agreement. If he was going to be an animal, then for once, he was going to enjoy it.

They didn't make it to completely naked, but all the parts within reach were uncovered, and it was enough. Daniel put his face up for hungry kisses as Teal'c worked him with one hand, the other supporting his back, holding their bodies tightly together. Daniel was drunk again, but he didn't fight it, didn't want to fight it. He moved in time with the hand milking him and the heavy erection rubbing against his thigh, his body tightening and relaxing, tightening and relaxing until the tension pulled him up, and he bucked, twice, three times, spurting into Teal'c's hand. All the questions, all the anger released with the climax, and he melted into Teal'c's supporting bulk. He drew Teal'c's hand to his mouth and began, lazily, to lap at the drops of fluid smearing the long fingers.

Teal'c watched him, unblinking, and began to buck harder. It wasn't much longer before Teal'c's movements lost their smooth rhythm and he jerked up along Daniel's thigh. As Daniel swiped his tongue across the center of Teal'c's palm, cleaning up the last of his own spilling, Teal'c clenched his jaw and cut off a moan behind tight lips. Daniel felt the wash of blood-warm liquid bathe his groin, slip over his thigh and run down between his legs. The thick warmth made his cock stir, more in appreciation than actual intent. Before he could figure out what on earth he was supposed to do next, the strain of the past three days ambushed him, and between one breath and the next, he fell sound asleep.

The morning after should, by all rights, have been awkward. He had gotten out of the habit of sleeping with anyone since he'd lost Sha're. He hadn't actually slept with a man since college, and then, not often. Given his own apprehensions, it was ridiculously easy.

He awoke draped over Teal'c like a blanket. Daniel could feel the Goa'uld moving sluggishly in its pouch, but oddly enough it didn't disgust him. It tickled. The thought struck him that it wasn't a morning person, either, and he smiled. He lifted his head to see if Teal'c was awake, not quite sure what to say, and saw steady dark eyes staring up at him. His mouth opened. Nothing came out.

Teal'c grinned.

Having never seen that particular expression on the Jaffa's face, Daniel didn't have a clue how to react. So he went with instincts, grinned back, and proceeded to kiss Teal'c until they had to break for air or pass out from lack of oxygen.

It felt so good, he did it again. Before things got too heated, the alarm rang, jolting them both back to reality.

"Rain check?" he asked wistfully. Teal'c just stared at him.

"Why should I wish to check for rain? The sun is shining." Sincere puzzlement.

Daniel's head landed on Teal'c's chest with a thump. "Er, can we continue this later?"

"Yes," Teal'c answered promptly.

"Good." For both of them, he hoped.

Thirty minutes later they were both showered, shaved, dressed and at the base. Jack kept stealing funny little looks at Daniel. Finally, the colonel pulled him aside.

"You okay, Danny?"

Jackson looked back at him steadily. "Sure, Jack. Why wouldn't I be?"

O'Neill didn't look like he was buying it. "I know this has to be tough on you, Daniel. It's been weird for all of us, but you kinda took the brunt of the weirdness. So if you need to talk to somebody about it …" His voice trailed off. Daniel gave him a half smile, and glanced over at Teal'c, standing in the corner, staring at them with an impassive expression belied by the warmth in his eyes.

"It's okay, Jack. I already have."

Jack looked from Daniel to Teal'c and back, then relaxed fractionally, seeming reassured by what he saw in their faces. "That's what friends are for?" He made it a question.

"You could say that," Daniel answered with certainty.

Jack nodded, satisfied that Daniel wasn't going to go off half cocked, and headed out the door. Teal'c came to stand beside Daniel. One large hand settled warmly on his shoulder, and Daniel found himself smiling.

"You know, Teal'c, you have a point, about getting past what the Goa'uld do to you." He reached over and gave Teal'c's womb a quick pat. "Living well is the best revenge." His voice dropped. "My place after work?"

Teal'c raised one eyebrow and matched Daniel's tone. "Since my 'place' is monitored by a security camera, that is a good idea, Daniel."

Jackson stared over at him, images of himself wrapped up in Hathor gradually overlaid with an image of Teal'c blanketed with himself. "Meet me at my car at six."

"I will be there."

Daniel's smile lingered as he headed off to work. At least this time, the only thing compelling him was his own need. He could deal with that.

There was a lot to be said for animal instinct.

FIN


End file.
